Alone We Meet
by Meladara
Summary: Broken and lost up on their return to Hogwarts, Hermione and Draco discover that maybe they can find strength they need to go on in the other. A story of friendship and maybe something more.
1. Chapter 1

_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

_This is the first fan fic I ever wrote, years ago. The story is about 10,000 words (3 chapters or so) and will be completely uploaded in the next few days. Thanks to my beta Queen of Stars, who put up with my cliche sappy story._

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><p>Chapter One – Compartment Truths<p>

Hermione Granger sat in a compartment alone and watching the countryside pass as the train sped her further away from all her friends. She was alone. The truth had finally set in, and she had to face it. She was alone. No Harry, no Ron, not even Ginny to keep her company. After all the years they had spent together, it was shocking and sad to let them go. The reality of it was felt even stronger as she went back to Hogwarts, the place they'd always shared. Now, it would be the place where she had to face the memory filled halls alone. Curling her legs underneath herself, she sighed and closed her eyes and gave into her pity fest. Drifting off into thought, she wondered what the year would hold for her and remembered the friends she'd left behind.

When she received the letter from Headmistress McGonagall offering her a chance complete her seventh year and take her NEWTS, she was ecstatic. She'd feared that she had lost the chance and when the door opened for her to continue her dreams, she leapt at the chance. The shock of finding Harry and Ron uninterested in returning to Hogwarts had eventually worn off and truthfully, she hadn't really blamed them. The war was over and they deserved the chance to move on.

They had both received many job offers over the summer, and after so many challenges, neither boy was tempted by the thought of returning to school. Harry was offered, and took, immediate special entry into Auror Academy. Ron had been offered several decent positions at prominent Wizarding companies but eventually decided on a position as the third string Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. There was never a chance that either of them would have ever turned down their respective offers. It was everything both her boys had hoped for, so there was no longer any reason for them to return to the school of their childhood. They were ready for their futures and she was glad they could move on. Even Ginny had been offered the chance to try out for the Seeker position by the Holyhead Harpies. Indeed, she was so confident in her abilities that she had stubbornly refused to return for her final year at Hogwarts.

A smile stretched across her melancholy face as she remembered Mrs. Weasley's state of panic. The Weasley Matriarch had been in fine form as she spent weeks trying to convince them to reconsider their decisions to give up Hogwarts. The Burrow had been completely unbearable. However, in the end, she'd finally admitted defeat and allowed them to make their own choices. They were all of age and there was nothing she could do. Although, she let them know every moment she could what she thought of their choices. As the summer closed Ron and Harry moved into Grimmauld Place, eager to start their respective careers and escape the relentless Molly Weasley, and Hermione set off for Hogwarts alone.

Alone. There it was again. She laid her head against the cool glass, truly feeling the loss of companionship. She couldn't believe that it was hitting her this hard. What a pathetic pity fest. Sure, no one had seen her off, but it wasn't their fault. Her parents were still unavailable in Australia, memories still modified and completely unaware that they had a daughter. Harry had started the Academy the week before and was too wiped out to get up early enough to see her off and Ron was already at training camp, not to return for three more weeks. Molly and Arthur had offered to see her to the station but she'd politely declined. The idea of dealing with Molly after the fiasco of the boys and Ginny not returning to Hogwarts was not appealing. So, she'd set off alone.

She took a deep breath to steady her emotions, in an effort to hold back the tears. This was the way things would be now. She was going forward and the only way forward was for her to go back. Back to the place of her childhood, the life before the war, and the goals she held before the war. It was a chance to regain the parts of her that had been torn from her through the brutality of war. If she had to do it alone, then she would; perhaps that was the only way it could be done. Alone.

Consoled slightly, by her internal pep talk, she drifted off to sleep. Perhaps the pain would lessen after she'd rested awhile; at least she wouldn't feel so alone the whole trip if she slept through it.

* * *

><p>He'd wandered the train as long as he could without looking crazy. He'd have to go into her compartment; there was no other choice. "Damn!" he cursed quietly. "Seriously, why her of all people?" He quietly slid the door to the compartment open.<p>

At least she was asleep, for now. He settled into the corner opposite her, content to share in the small bit of the peace that the room afforded, and closed his eyes.

His mother had had another breakdown this morning. She had been steadily getting worse, but there was nothing more he could do for her, and putting off attending Hogwarts just wasn't an option. Watching her husband be sent to Azkaban had just been too much for her, even if it was only for five years. He knew what a blessing it truly was that it hadn't been longer, but Mother had never done well on her own. With the prospect of him being at school and father being in prison, she'd finally started to give into the grief that had been growing in her heart. Over the last few weeks she'd deteriorated so far that she'd caused several dangerous accidental magic incidences at the Manor. This latest incident had caused all the clothing in his trunk to burst into flames. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured. Part of him knew there was some humour to be seen in the image playing through his mind, his grandfather's old trunk engulfed in pink magical flames as house elves desperately tried to put them out, but humor was not to be found in him today. He'd done his duty and found a committed and trusted French healer to stay with her. She also had her maid to see to her personal needs, and the elves would keep him informed of her condition.

With his father locked up in Azkaban, he had been made the trustee of the family fortune, and he had just been appointed interim CEO of his family's international corporation. The stress of it all was overwhelming. Truthfully, the corporation wouldn't be too much trouble; he'd arranged with the Board of Directors to care for most of the daily business needs while he was away. He'd be able to attend the board meetings when needed. Still, he felt the weight of the responsibility. It was not in his nature to shirk the responsibilities of his family and allowing others to control things over the school year would truly tax his patience. It was frustrating to have made it through the war alive only to find himself overburdened with a complicated family business and a mother in the midst of a mental breakdown.

_Where is my peace and happiness? Damn it! _

He sighed and shifted in the seat, hands running through his short, blonde hair. No matter, he had a job to do. He was going to finish school, care for his family's business and fortune, and more than anything else, he was going to find a way to restore the honour of his family name.

He'd made his way to London easily enough that morning but had been unprepared for the looks of outrage he encountered on the platform before boarding the train. Sure he was a known Death Eater but he'd been through his own trial and been found innocent of all wrong doing. Not to mention that he'd been an informant for the Order for the last two months of the war. He deserved the chance to move on with his life as much as they did.

On the train it was more of the same, looks of disgust and outrage, as he looked for a compartment to sit in. He'd passed numerous compartments filled with Slytherins but the looks were all the same, equally unwelcoming. He knew that he was tainted and none of his former allies wanted to risk their reputation by associating with him. There was a time when he'd have felt much the same way. To most he was an evil, spoiled, rich kid turned Death Eater who used money to manipulate people to get what he wanted. To others, the Slytherins who had heard the rumours of what he'd done in the war, he was a blood traitor who turned against all of his beliefs. Scorned, with nowhere else to turn, he'd gathered what pride he had left and stole into the compartment. Anything was better than roaming the train looking like an outcast.

He sighed and opened his eyes to look upon the girl sleeping across from him. He found her soothing to look at and her hair fascinating; the curls encircling her face as her pink, bow mouth gently drew small breaths in and out. Though, today there was something different about her face as she slept. It held none of the anger or fire that he'd seen so often there.

He'd always admired the way she never backed down from verbally sparring with him. It was a thrill to see her anger grow unhindered and then crash down on him in sharp, cutting words. Now as he peered at her he saw none of that. She was different. They all were different. That was what war does, changes people, breaks people. As he studied her face he was surprised to find that her face mirrored the feelings in his heart. She appeared sombre and lost. As if, even while sleeping, she could not allow the troubles of her life to leave her. He wondered what could trouble the great Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Princess, so much that even in sleep it disturbed her. She definitely had changed.

* * *

><p>Her eyes slowly opened to the scene before her. Expressions flashed across her face as her mind processed the sight of him. He could read the expressions as clearly as he could read a book.<p>

_Anger_

_Confusion_

_Disbelief_

She quickly drew in a sharp breath.

The serious expressions on her face filled the compartment with tension as his stomach soured; perhaps this wasn't such as good idea.

Finally, she settled into a disbelieving stare. She sat silent and still as she considered him. Words seemed to be lost to her in that moment as she could bring no verbal attack to her lips.

He wasn't surprised at her disbelief; he too could appreciate the oddity taking place in the compartment. He was sure he found it more amusing than she though as humour had never been her strong suit. Thankfully, anger had only flashed across her face for a moment; angry Granger was stimulating and fun, but he was most certainly not up to sparring with her right now.

He intently took in the changes that played across her face as the train continued to speed them on toward school. The gentle, bow mouth was now pulled firm, showing her angst; her hands now sat firmly folded in her lap looking absolutely prim and proper. Long ago he'd been taught the art of maintaining poise and grace in uncertainty. It helped him take control in uncertain situations if he could maintain the appearance of a cool head when others could not. She had learned the same it would appear. Though, today it was her eyes that told him the most about her; they sparked with defiance and question. Her brow was slightly furrowed and head tilted. Those were the same eyes that he saw when she was in a heated debate; they were serious but earnest and thoughtful.

Still, she voiced nothing.

His eyes wandered to her hair. It looked so soft; he could feel a slight tingle in his fingers as he pushed down the desire to reach across the compartment and run his fingers through her curls. He slowly started to flush as her intense stare raked over him, the intensity of her gaze and thoughts filling the room with a thickness that made his breath stick in his throat. He could almost hear the thoughts flashing through her brain.

_Perhaps I should say something before she goes back to being angry. _

_But what?_

_What can I say to her?_

Finally, he smirked and asked, "Do you have any idea how loud your thoughts are, Granger?"

She jumped in her seat. Still, her mouth was not quite caught up to the sprinting of her mind. Tired, lonely and now completely shocked at finding herself slightly aroused by the intensity with which his eyes studied her, she was rendered speechless.

_No one ever looks at me like that! _

_This will not do! _

_Draco Malfoy, bastard extraordinaire, does NOT turn me on._

Irritated that he'd stirred any feeling within her, she pushed them out of her head. Determined, she took a deep breath and stared grimly into the stormy, grey eyes of the man sitting across from her.

Through a tight, firm mouth, she primly said, "Please don't patronize me, Malfoy. I'm not in the mood. If you'd like to sit in this compartment with me, fine. I won't stop you, but please just leave me alone!"

She had spoken the words quickly and quietly, fearing that her voice would crack and the tears would start to fall. She was not sure she could take this. Taking on Malfoy today was just beyond her abilities.

She'd not even considered that he would be returning to Hogwarts.

_Of course he returned. Couldn't have things be to easy for me!_

Draco Malfoy had always been just behind her marks in class and, although he'd probably never admit it, she suspected he was just as big a bookworm as she. Whatever the case, he really didn't concern her. She just couldn't bring her heart to care or to really even be curious as to what possessed him to sit with her. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the window; resting her cheek on the cool glass, she hoped he'd take the hint and leave her alone.

Draco considered the woman sitting across from him.

She wore a blue, silk blouse and a tan skirt. The blouse and skirt were both of good quality but oddly wrinkled. The blouse itself was slightly un-tucked. She looked as if she had planned to look nice, but in the end had failed utterly for some reason. Like she knew what it took to look nice but couldn't bring herself to take the final step to complete the task today. Her hair, on the other hand, was a phenomenon of its own; it always was. Today he found it uncharacteristically wild and frizzy as it encircled her face; it wasn't a bad effect really. Her skin was a pure ivory and her hair provided a gentle glow around her, giving an angelic aura to her repose. There was a difference in her though; she was sad and broken. He could see the emotions bubbling just below the surface as she grasped to maintain control. There was an uncharacteristic weakness to her reply. Especially when considering the plea for respect she'd added at the end. Never before would she have asked it of him.

Without really understanding why, he found his heart soften towards her. He may not like her, well not a lot anyway, and he certainly couldn't understand her; but he knew sadness. The pain and sorrow were so evident on her face; he knew what lurked in her heart. He shared the same pain in his own. He would leave her alone for the rest of the trip. Once again, his eyes closed and he left her to her thoughts and sadness.

* * *

><p>"Shite," he muttered. They'd both fallen asleep. They were going to be there soon and she was still asleep. She needed to put her robes on before leaving the train.<p>

"Granger."

"Granger!"

She felt someone shaking her arm.

"Granger," she heard, as someone squeezed her shoulder and shook her again.

"Granger, wake up! We'll be there in just a minute; you need to get into your robes!"

Hermione opened her eyes, groggily.

_ Where am I?_

It took her a moment to focus as her reality of her pity fest filled day rushed back to her, hitting full force.

She felt him standing over her, his head bent down, eyes filled with what appeared to be sincere concern.

_He'd woke me up? _

_Why in the world would he do that? _

_Why is he so close?_

She could smell him; the scent was all around her, spicy and clean. The heat of his body radiated out toward her as still hazy eyes stared at the pale neck before her.

Still, he did not back away.

Her hair is so close. Without knowing he did so, he lowered his face to her hair and took in her scent; vanilla and cinnamon.

She felt a heat come to her cheeks. Draco Malfoy just smelled her hair. His breath fluttered across her neck as heat and desire filled them both.

The closeness was intoxicating. His mind told him to back away, but his body refused, over powered by more enticing desires.

She noticed that his hands were placed just above each of her shoulders, probably done innocently enough to steady himself from the movement of the train. However, he was encompassing her entire view and overwhelming her completely. Entranced, his spicy scent over took all thought.

She looked up into his eyes, and her pink, bow shaped mouth called to him.

Without a thought, he lowered his mouth toward hers.

Suddenly, the train shook roughly to the left and jarred them soundly. Startled, their eyes came back into focus, and rational thought found itself back in control.

The spell broken, he quickly backed away and sat down, looking and feeling very confused. He felt the loss of heat and scent as the desire settled into a dull ache deep inside.

_This can't be happening._

Actually, neither of them was altogether sure what had really happened to begin with. Had they truly almost kissed?

Malfoy noticed that although she was truly flustered, Hermione didn't really appear to be all that miffed about it. He was, however, sure of one thing; if he had stayed that close for a second longer, he would have kissed her.

She watched as his gaze went from her to the trunk resting on the shelf above her.

"Robes?"

"Oh, right. Thank you," she said quietly.

She stood up and pulled out a small, purple handbag from her trunk. Reaching into the tiny bag, she pulled out her crumpled school robes. Without a word, Hermione tapped the robes with her wand and the fabric smoothed.

_Why on earth didn't she do that earlier?_

Quickly, she pulled her school robes over her clothes and sat back down. Affecting the outward appearance of poise and control, she squared her shoulders and primly folded her hands on her lap. Purposefully, she began to control her breathing while she considered the man across from her.

_ Wait, man? What? _Well, she had to admit, to herself at least, that he certainly wasn't the boy who had taunted her since they were eleven.

Just as the train started to slow, she asked, "Why in here with me?"

He sighed as he stood up, once again towering over her as he slowly walked to the compartment door. He looked down at his feet and then, with a sincerity she had never heard from him before, he said, "There was nowhere else, Hermione."

She considered his words. "Why not with the other Slytherins, Draco?"

"As I said, there was nowhere else."

"Oh," she mumbled, feeling even more confused as he left the compartment.

_What does he mean there was nowhere else?_

As the train finally stopped Hermione tried to push the odd encounter with Draco from her thoughts, failing miserably. She gathered her purple bag; leaving her trunk for the elves to take and she made her way off the train._ As she _made her way to the carriages waiting to take them up the castle she was struck by one final thought, _Well, at least I wasn't alone. _


	2. Chapter 2

_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

_This is chapter 2 of the first fan fic I ever wrote, years ago. The story is about 10,000 words and will be completely uploaded in the next few days. Thanks to my beta Queen of Stars, who put up with my cliche sappy story._

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><p>Chapter 2 – Hogwarts<p>

Six students lounged around the classroom waiting for someone to take them to their quarters. Hermione was shocked that there were so few of them returning to complete their seventh year, even if it was a year late. Since they were technically not seventh years, but eighth years as Headmistress McGonagall had called them at the welcome feast, they would not be residing with their old Houses. Draco was thankful that he'd be spared the torture that would have awaited him if he'd resided with the Slytherins. It was going to be hard enough to get through this year, and although he may have problems with students in the halls, it would be easier if he didn't have to live in the dormitory. So, here they waited until someone came to fetch them and take them to their new living quarters.

Hermione scanned the room. She was astonished and dismayed that among the students there, the only one she had a passing acquaintance with was Draco. She'd never really had too many friends but she'd hoped for at least one person whom she could call friend. Besides her and Draco, there were three Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff. Draco sat in the back corner, his face emotionless and unreadable as he waited to find out what the school year held for them. He was thinking much the same thing as Hermione; there were no friends to be found in this room. He did know the Ravenclaw boys, but he'd never really cared for them; they were a trio of their own and he wasn't interested in joining. The Hufflepuff girl was, well . . . a Hufflepuff, and he couldn't be bothered. The only person in this room that would hold any interest for him was Hermione. Merlin, this was not looking good.

Headmistress McGonagall entered the classroom and briskly walked to the front of the room. She had much to do this evening and needed to get this completed as quickly as possible. The first day of school always left her tired and over worked.

"Good evening. I apologize for the delay. As you know, you no longer will be considered members of your former house. It is through a special dispensation by the Board of Governors that you've been allowed to return this year. I'm sure you can clearly see that since you are a year older, it would be unfair for you to be allowed to participate in the usual house activities. However, let me be very clear, since you've been allowed to remain at Hogwarts beyond the normal time period, you each will be held to a higher standard of behavior."

Her lips pursed as she peered into the eyes of each student, as if to assure herself each student understood the seriousness of her statement.

"Although you cannot lose house points, detentions if necessary, will be assigned. Any student found unable meet the educational standards or conform to the rules of this school will be asked to leave forthwith."

She paused her speech for a moment, took a breath, and then, with a small smile, continued, "Now, that said, I understand that you are older and have dealt with much more than the typical student. Therefore, at my request, the Board of Governors has agreed that you shall be allowed to go into Hogsmeade at any time you deem necessary; although we do ask that you inform a fellow eighth year or a professor if you should leave Hogwarts at anytime. A Patronus will be sufficient notice. Additionally, you shall not have a curfew, although, given the intensity of the coursework, we hope you would make the best of this dispensation as oppose to abusing it. Also, please feel free to make use of the prefect bathrooms as needed. The password is _phoenix fire_."

Briskly, Headmistress McGonagall walked to the door. "It is getting late, and I still have much to do, so if you would please, follow me."

They followed McGonagall through the halls of the castle. Covertly, Draco looked over the group, and as his eyes fell on Hermione, the group came to a stop. He noted that she didn't look as sad now, but it was still there. A shadow on her face at moments when she allowed it to filter through, but he could see she was trying mask it. Perhaps being here allowed her to tap into the memories of the joy she once felt in the halls of this school. He wondered what was wrong with him. Why was he watching her? He couldn't understand what is was about her that drew him. So she was sad. That really didn't make her special. In fact, it made her just like everyone else in this world.

McGonagall called out two names. The Hufflepuff girl and one of the Ravenclaw boys stepped forward.

Turning to the group behind her, Professor McGonagall said, "Since there were only six students returning we decided to set you up in quarters similar to the Head Boy and Head Girl. Each pair has their own common room with individual quarters for each student. Now, if you four will please wait here I will show them into their quarters and then we can continue on."

The remaining four students walked down the hall a couple steps and waited for McGonagall to return. Hermione felt Draco's eyes on her but not knowing what to think of it or how to respond she pretended not to notice. Instead, she focused her attention on the portrait through which McGonagall would emerge. After a few moments, they were able to continue their trek through the castle. Before the next portrait, she called two more names, and the two remaining Ravenclaws stepped forward. As soon as she had finished calling the names, Hermione and Draco froze. Their eyes shot up to look at one another and then to McGonagall. Reality crashing down on them, Draco let out a groan and took off down the hall.

"I see," said McGonagall primly. "Miss Granger, would be so kind as to fetch Mr. Malfoy? I'll only be a moment, and then I shall show you two to your quarters."

Hermione watched McGonagall disappear through the door and stomped off after Draco. She had a feeling that Draco hadn't meant to insult her by running off. This was a strange situation they had found themselves in and his reaction wasn't surprising. She found Draco sitting on the floor just around the corner from where he'd left them, his forehead resting on his knees as his hands combed through his hair.

"Malfoy," she said, "come on, she's going to show us to our rooms."

Draco looked up at her with wild eyes. "You realize what this means, right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and was surprised that she was feeling a bit hurt by his words. Her cheeks flushed, as fire lit in her eyes.

Staring down at him she countered in a vapidly sweet voice, "No, Malfoy, I don't. What does it mean?"

Then, as anger and exasperation filled her, she said, "Boys can be so stupid sometimes. Do I know what this means? Of course I do, you and I know how fast both of our brains work; and the moment she said those names the implications shot through both our head. Now, what would like to hear me complain about? Would you like me to start with the fact that I'm stuck working with you, living with you, the one person in the world who has tormented me most of my life! How about that you're the one person in this world, still alive, that has hurt me more than anyone else. Is that what you want, Malfoy? Because for some reason, I really don't think it is."

She stomped her foot and then felt her stomach drop as the anger drained from her as quickly as it had come. She'd lost it; reacted to him as she would have in the past.

Calming herself while mustering all the feeling she could, she finally said, "Think about it Malfoy, because if that is how you want things to be, I would be more than happy to oblige. It is your decision."

She started to walk around the corner toward the portal McGonagall had disappeared behind. She felt bad that she'd lost it but part of her welcomed the fire she had felt. It felt good to tell him off, if only a little. At least anger was a pleasant change, it was nice to feel something other than sadness. Before she'd gone too far, she turned and smiled at the startled young man still sitting on the floor. Amused at this new game of messing with Malfoy, she said, in a slightly amused voice, "Oh, grow up, Malfoy, I won't bite."

Draco stood up and dusted himself off. He knew she didn't bite. Well, she could, but he was pretty sure she wouldn't. Unless he wanted her to, that is. He heard the door open down the hall, and he rolled his eyes at himself and his ridiculous behavior and then walked back to the two ladies waiting for him.

As they walked down the hall towards their room, Draco noticed the sadness had completely left her face; in its place was a health glow on her cheeks and determination in her jaw. No matter how poorly he had behaved, he was glad it had helped her.

With a stern look at the two students behind her, the Headmistress opened the door to their chamber. "The password for your chambers is _Tolerance_; I suggest you do not forget it. Please submit your list of desired classes tomorrow morning at breakfast. We do ask that you report to all meals tomorrow, but other than that, you may have the day free. Your classes will begin on Wednesday."

McGonagall sighed and looked at the two young adults watching her. "Now, I want to make one thing clear to both of you. This was not an easy pairing to make. We all know your history, but from here on out you must make the best of it. You were the top two students in your year and had there been no war to interfere with your schooling you both would have been asked to be the Head students. It is my belief that your study habits will complement each other nicely, although I'm sure at this point you cannot see it yourselves. You both have strong personalities. I think perhaps it is time for you to put your foolish bickering behind you and behave as it fitting for ones of your intelligence. Please remember to respect one another and make the best of it, for all our sakes. It is rare that life offers you a second chance, don't waste it. I wish you the best of luck."

At that she turned and walked out the door.

McGonagall's words still ringing in their ears, they both stood lost in thought, surprisingly unaware of the roommate standing nearby.

She could have been Head Girl. Hermione felt a twinge of regret in the pit of her stomach.

If things had been different…

She quickly pushed that thought from her as it would not lead anywhere pleasant. Things weren't different; there had been a war, a very real and costly war. Her wounds were her own to live with now; as they would be for the rest of her life. Whatever the cost, she had done what had needed to be done and was proud of her involvement. She wouldn't do anything differently, anyhow. Fate, for a time, had taken control of her life and she had to accept the changes wrought.

The questions were how to move on and what to move toward. Before, when the dreams and ideals of childhood were clear to her, she had many plans. Plans to help the world and help those who could not help themselves. S.P.E.W. had been a slightly misguided, unsuccessful attempt of what she wanted to do with her life. She had considered using her new status as a war hero to accomplish the things she had desired as a child, however, as she considered what those things were she found they did not appeal to her in the way they did once. Each of the things she had wanted to achieve previously were centred on her giving spirit, however, she found that herself post war did not possess much of a giving spirit. Perhaps it was simply broken. Making a difference in the lives of the less fortunate held no appeal. As far as she was concerned she was the less fortunate. It was time she stopped living her life for others and to take care of herself. After seeing and experiencing so much pain and suffering in the war, she had changed. She craved the pursuit of knowledge; she wanted to seek out complex problems and solve them to allow her brain the opportunity that it had been deprived of for so long. Although she did not know where she would go after Hogwarts, she knew wherever she went it would be in pursuit of knowledge. Perhaps after she had time to heal her wounds, things would change, but for now, it was time to take care of herself.

Draco, too, was stunned at the Headmistress's words. It wasn't that he was surprised that he would have been Head Boy; he was still a Malfoy with a fully intact ego. What affected him was that McGonagall, of all people, was willing to admit that he would have been head boy if the war hadn't interfered. It meant a lot to have her respect, to be acknowledged for his work.

Before he joined the Order, Professor McGonagall couldn't stand the sight of him; he was certain of that. While working with the Order, he'd had very limited contact with the other members. In fact, it was only the Order members who had direct contact with him that knew of his loyalties and what actions he'd had to make for the war effort. It had been too dangerous for him to interact with the Order members openly.

In the end, it had been McGonagall he had gone to with the warning of the final attack. The warning had saved many lives and allowed them an edge that led to their victory. That night, she had been able to see him act with bravery and honour. It was this that allowed the Headmistress to hope that a second chance would change things for the better for the young Malfoy.

He hoped that with the Headmistress' respect other would make a move to treat him at least decently. Then again, since his trial had been closed to the public, the only way to find out the details of his involvement within the Order was to file a petition with the Ministry. There were not many people who would ever care to do that, he was sure. Generally, the public was inclined to believe that the only reason he'd avoided prison was the fact that he was underage when forced to join the Death Eaters and had been coerced into working for them. He knew most people saw him as a spoiled, rich boy and nothing so far had been offered to the public to change that perception. No one had really ever bothered to find out the truth, and so therefore no one knew that he had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix and on the good side. Perhaps it was time he did something about that.


	3. Chapter 3

_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

_This is chapter 3 of the first fan fic I ever wrote, years ago. The story is about 10,000 words and will be completely uploaded in the next few days. Thanks to my beta Queen of Stars, who put up with my cliche sappy story._

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><p>Chapter 3 -<p>

The common room was large and decorated in warm, earthy colours; it was filled with a large fireplace, plush rugs and several over-stuffed sofas. Two portraits, portals to their rooms no doubt, flanked the fireplace that was centred in the room. To one side of the room was a sturdy table with six chairs and a large, empty book shelf. Hermione looked to Draco, a small smile on her face. She cocked her head to the side and bit her bottom lip, as if to ask "What now?" Finally, with a shrug, she walked toward the portrait on the right side of the room, intent on exploring. Following her lead, Draco moved to the portrait on the left side and both disappeared behind the portals.

To say that this was the bedroom of her dreams was an understatement. She'd never been one to fantasize about her rooms. At home, her room had been cluttered and simple; she spent so little time in there it wasn't really her room, anyhow. Until this year, she'd resided in the dorms with the other girls in her year, so there was never really any privacy and minimal space for her own things. As Hermione stood with the door to her back, she took in her new quarters. The room was large and had six airy windows that looked out over the lake, and best of all, it was all hers! She had a large desk with an entire wall of bookshelves to accommodate her large library, as well as a wardrobe, a bed and a sitting area. The large four poster bed sat opposite the east facing-windows, which would all her to be woken by the sun streaming in the windows each morning. Tucked away in a corner near one of the windows was her chair and table. She found it was just the perfect size for one person to enjoy a meal or a cup of tea. On the table was a note, in handwriting she recognized as McGonagall's. It read: _You have been assigned Mipsy to attend to your needs. Please do not hesitate to call her if you need anything_. Hermione guessed that this was something that was provided only for the head girl and head boy in a normal year, but was being offered to all the eighth years as well. It would be convenient for long, late study sessions to be able to avoid leaving her rooms for meals in the Great Hall. She noticed that at the foot of her bed was her trunk and guessed that all of her belongings were already put away in the wardrobe. On her desk, she found all her school books neatly stacked and ready to use.

Hermione moved to her bed and sat down. Thinking back to the train ride, she could still feel the grief and loneliness plying within her heart. However, the strangeness of the whole odd situation coupled with the familiarity she found at Hogwarts had dulled it. Allowing other, stranger feelings as she sat, the reality of what the feeling was settled over her. She was astonished.

Curiosity? Curiosity toward Draco, specifically.

Why did she have to be curious about Draco? She ran through their encounters through the day. On the train, although she had been too upset to notice it then, he had been quiet and nearly as sad as she. Then in the classroom waiting for McGonagall he'd sat alone and silent, as if he was unsure where he belonged. With the exception of the incident in the hall, if she was honest with herself, she'd have to admit that he hadn't offered her any biting rebukes or scathing remarks. He'd left her alone in the train when she asked and woken her in time to get dressed when he certainly did not have to do so. Not to mention he'd used her first name on the train; the Malfoy of before would never have used her name. What had he meant when he'd said there was nowhere else? Of course there were other places he could have sat. But then maybe not, he'd sat with her, and she was sure that it'd not been something he'd wanted to do. So, what was it that made it necessary to sit with her? Surely, despite his past as a Death Eater, he still had friends in Slytherin that would welcome him into their compartment. Right? Oh well, it was of no matter now.

Hermione's eyes found a door that she hadn't noticed during her initial scan of the room. She left the bed and made her way to the door and opened it. Before her was a large, white marble bathroom. It was nothing compared to the Prefect bathroom, but given that it was meant to be used by only two students, she found it obscenely large. The shower was large enough for six people, and the tub was huge with ten magical faucets. Along the opposite wall stood a large vanity counter with three ornate sinks and a large mirror that ran the full length of the wall above the vanity. There were two doors in the room as well; behind the first she found a commode. She realized that the second door, being opposite hers must lead to Draco's room and thought it'd be best to leave that door alone. She turned and decided it was time to end her exploring and take care of writing up her list of classes and NEWTs she'd be taking for McGonagall and then retire for the night. It'd been a long, emotional day, and she needed to recover if she was going to make it through tomorrow. She turned to leave the bathroom just as she heard Draco's door open. At the sound of the door opening, she froze.

It was still a shock to find themselves in company of their roommate. After what seemed to be an eternity, Hermione turned to gaze at the grey eyes staring back at her, unsure of how to move forward with Draco. Would they really make good roommates? She had her doubts, but she decided it was the least she could do to start with things neutral but friendly. They were going to have to live together, so they might as well try to get along. Besides, he hadn't given her any reason to be upset with him . . . yet. And until he did, he didn't deserve her derision.

She asked, "How is your room, Malfoy?"

Draco stepped into the room carrying some clothes and his shower caddy.

"My room is fine, Granger, I just thought I'd take a. . ." He left the sentence hanging; surely she could catch on to his meaning. He looked toward the shower. Hermione nodded and turned to leave at once. She was happy he'd decided to keep things neutral as well. She was pretty sure that it wouldn't take much harassing from him to push her over the edge, and she really didn't feel like having a meltdown right now, although she may be able to gather enough for righteous anger if he wanted. She smiled just as she reached the door, thinking it best to leave while things were still neutral, no matter how fun it was to yell at Draco. Then she heard Draco quickly ask her something.

"Hmmm?" Hermione said.

"Your classes, which ones will you be taking?" Draco asked again.

She looked closely at Draco, confusion settling over her. Why did want to know that? Well, at least he was trying, and even if it was Draco she had to talk to, talking would further lessen the weight of loneliness that filled her heart. Finally, she mumbled, "Oh, well . . . everything but Divination." As she looked at Draco, he stared intently at her as he waited for her to speak again. Apparently, he wanted a more detailed answer. She supposed that since he'd made the effort to talk to her, it was the least she could do to return the favour as best as possible. Taking a deep breath she forced the words out with as much life as she could muster, "I'm taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creature, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Muggle Studies, Potions and Transfiguration."

He could see that she was fighting the sadness that was weighing on her. He noticed she'd closed her eyes as she spoke, while she counted each class off on her fingers. Suddenly, Draco smiled. Of course she'd take every possible class she could except Divination. "Two things, Granger," he said. "First, you realize you listed those in alphabetical order? And second, Muggle studies?"

Hermione chuckled, surprised that he'd actually listened to her so closely. This time, the words left her mouth with ease, she was going to follow his lead, and if he wanted friendly, friendly was what he'd get. "Well, you know I'm a know-it-all. It is just how my brain works. I can't remember a time when I didn't organize or alphabetize and so on. Honestly, I don't even notice when I do it; I think I just like to find the order in the chaotic world." Hermione leaned against the counter and peered at Draco, who was listening intently. "As far as Muggle Studies goes, I find it interesting to see how the Wizarding world views muggles, being one myself. Plus, it is an easy class, and everyone needs one to make them feel good."

Once again, Draco smiled and a small laugh escaped him. "I find that hard to believe that you need a class to stroke your ego, Granger. You are easily the smartest witch Hogwarts has seen in decades and you know it."

Draco set his things down and turned toward the shower, and Hermione realized that it was time for her to leave. Before she could exit the room, she heard Draco call after her, "Hey, Granger!"

She paused, her hand on the door as he continued, "Just so we are clear, you just said that you are a muggle. You are in no way a muggle. I don't doubt that you have insight into the way the muggle world that I could never understand and by birth you are a muggleborn. True. But you are not one of them, you are a witch and should be damn proud of that fact. He reached down to turn on the water, and he saw her smile. He heard a quiet "Goodnight, Draco," as she left the room. Perhaps he'd helped her, if just a little, to get over whatever was troubling her. He knew he meant what he said; although he was surprised he'd said it at all, especially to Granger.

"Well, that was unexpected," she thought. "Apparently he really sees me as a witch and not a muggle. Although it was just a bit weird, him talking to her like that." She really didn't know what to make of what he'd said, but she did feel the kindness that was intended in his proclamation.

She settled down at her desk and laid her head on the stack of books before her. If she looked at it right, she told herself, she wasn't exactly alone. Clearly, it was a stretch at this point to say that Draco was her friend. However, he was her roommate and it was obvious he was willing to make an effort to speak to her. In fact, he'd been downright nice to her, going so far as actually trying to make her feel good. She was surprised it had worked, but it had. He really had made her happy and although it had been a long emotional day and up until the last hour she had felt alone in the world, she finally felt up to the task of attending Hogwarts.

Settling into her bed, she latched onto that small amount of happiness Draco had gifted her and closed her eyes. Her final thought that night as she drifted off to sleep was that she finally felt like she'd come home.


	4. Chapter 4

_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

_This is the 4th (and final) chapter of the first fan fic I ever wrote, years ago. Thanks to my beta Queen of Stars, who put up with my cliche sappy story._

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><p>Draco sat on the couch of the common room reading and waiting for Hermione to make her morning appearance. He'd lain awake last night wondering what was doing. He hadn't intended to be so chummy with Granger. In fact, it had never even crossed his mind that he'd ever want to be friends with her. However, as he watched her the day before, there was something there that he just couldn't let go. She wasn't vibrant and joyful as she had been before. If he'd been honest with himself, that was something that had attracted him to her before. She was so smart and always ready to come back against anything he'd thrown at her. Sure, they hated each other with a passion, but at least there was passion. Her spark had come back for a moment in the hall when she'd snapped at him, but truly it wasn't the same. She was sad, and it bothered him. Groaning internally, he wasn't supposed to care about her. He wondered why it bothered him at all. As he combed his hands through his hair, he settled in to watch the flames play before him. Perhaps he didn't hate her anymore, but what were his feelings toward her? Deep down, he knew this was more than simply not hating her. It was something more but he wasn't quite ready to face that yet. For now, he'd have to just follow her lead and take things one day at a time, but one thing was certain, he couldn't hurt her anymore. It had taken too much from both of them, and it was time for it to stop.<p>

Hermione emerged from her room to find Draco staring into the flames so deep in thought he didn't notice her presence. Taking the opportunity to observe him she found that he had really grown from a boy to a man over the last year. He was no longer the lanky lad she remembered. He was very tall, certainly taller than Ron and Harry, and his shoulders and chest were broad. Honestly, he screamed manliness to her. She smiled at the thought that the sight of Draco screamed manliness to her. She really needed to get a grip! His hair looked as silky as ever; she fought the urge to run her hands through it. She noted that his demeanour, even when deep in thought, was perfect. He was the picture of pureblood aristocracy. She moved to sit down next to him, startling him as she settled on the couch with a smile.

"Sickle for your thoughts, Draco?" she asked quietly.

He looked up, clearly startled to see Hermione. "Um…hi." Then after a breath he gathered seemed to pull himself a bit more together as he spoke again, "Good morning, Hermione."

"Good morning, Draco." She watched him for a moment and the continued, "So…?"

"I'm sorry, so what?" Draco asked, not quite clear what she was asking.

"Your thoughts," she answered.

"My thoughts? Oh!" finally understanding what she wanted. He peered at her face and found that she seemed to be happier this morning. Good.

Answering question he said, "Well, I was thinking that it is time for a truce. I don't want to do it anymore."

Puzzled, she asked, "Do what?"

Draco looked down at his hands, "You know what, Hermione. No more, okay?"

Looking up at her he waited for her to respond but she said nothing. Seeing her desire for him to elaborate plainly on her face and stunned to find that he actually wanted to tell her the truth, he continued, "I could see the pain and sadness on your face yesterday. I don't know why, but I can't do it anymore. I don't want to be the one that causes you pain. So, truce?"

Hermione was stunned and touched. She sighed and nudged his knee with hers. "That's what you were thinking about? Really, I didn't know you cared," she teased him. After a few moments of silence, she said, "Alright, Malfoy, truce."

Draco looked at her; this was entirely new territory for both of them "Great. Now there is one last thing, no more Malfoy and Granger. From now on, we are Draco and Hermione. Alright?"

"We?" she asked as he lips formed a small smirk and her eyes brows rose.

Draco rolled his eyes and as a sudden spark of life filled him he said almost playfully, "Yes, we. As in, a group of people to which the speaker belongs. As in, you and I. Merlin, Hermione, I thought you were supposed to be the swot here?"

Hermione let out a small laugh and nodded. "Oh! Alright, fine. Draco. I think I can do that. Draco. Now, why don't we go down to breakfast; I'm starving, Draco."

"Don't get too comfortable there now, Granger," he complained.

She gave him a look that was part teasing and partially scolding. "Tisk, tisk! This was your idea after all. I am Hermione. Say it for me Her-mi-on-e."

"Alright, alright." he grumbled, "No more Granger. I already said you name once, if you cared to notice. I was using your surname for affect. It won't happen again."

"It better not," she said primly, as if it had been her idea in the first place.

"So is it too weird? Being nice?" she asked him.

"Don't know. I do feel a bit like I've gone round the bend, but you came with me so I suppose it is okay. Breakfast, then? He asked.

"Please."

With that she stood up and held out her hand to help him up. He took her hand, stood up and began to walk to the portrait to exit their common room.

"Draco," she whispered conspiratorially, "you are still holding my hand?"

He looked down at their hands; sure enough, he was holding her hand still. He looked at her with a smirk and said, "Oh . . . isn't that what friends do?" He laughed and smiled at her.

Her hand was so small in his, and surprisingly the touch of her soft skin made his heart ache. Suddenly the playful spirit in him disappeared and was replaced by a serious interest.

Interest? He was stunned.

Okay, so maybe they had been flirting but this was suddenly a whole different cauldron.

Thoughtfully, he lifted her hand to look at it, turning it in his hand to as if it was a small treasure that he'd unexpectedly found.

She too noticed the change in the atmosphere. Her breath caught as she saw him turn her hand in his and the intensity of his eyes.

They both watched their joined hands as he turned her hand so that her palm was facing upward. Gently, he made small deliberate circles on her palm with his thumb. Each circle drove small sparks of fire into them. Neither of them had expected that a simple touch could be so intoxicating, so full of intensity and desire.

As if afraid that if he letting go might make the magic of the moment go, he raised his eyes to gaze into her chocolate eyes and gave smirk. Then he asked in mock seriousness, "Have you got a problem with it?"

The sudden heat of the moment and the playful challenge in his eyes made her laugh nervously as words spilled out. "Alright, Draco, have it your way. Although I'm pretty sure that friends don't do what you are doing to my hand right now. Just remember you said you promised not to hurt me anymore. Okay?"

Hermione's heart was pounding; her head was dizzy with excitement and she was pretty sure that she was blushing. Had she just told Draco Malfoy he could hold her hand? Looking down at her hand, she concluded that it appeared so. It was not unpleasant. Okay, it was more than not unpleasant. In fact, it was unlike anything she'd felt before.

"Of course, my princess, I will do my utmost to never hurt you again," Draco said softly as he raised his other hand to her cheek to push aside a stray curl.

Hermione snorted, "Since, when have I been your princess?"

"I believe since about thirty seconds ago," he admitted.

"Really?" she asked, the situation still more a dream than a reality.

"Really. Have you got a problem with it?" he asked once again.

"Apparently not," she said with a smile as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Then, surprising herself as much as Draco, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

It was at that point that their world froze. The flirting and slight touching of their hands before was nothing to this.

What brought it on they did not know. Perhaps it was their proximity, perhaps the kiss, or perhaps it was simply time but as they stood there, inches from one another, it was as if suddenly their place in the world became clear. Truths and understanding that had been completely veiled before suddenly came into focus.

Entranced, Draco slipped arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her to him. His arms wrapped around her and held her against him. He noticed that her hair smelled of vanilla and cinnamon and her petite frame seemed to fit perfectly with his. There was a peace here, with her, that he'd never known. In her embrace, his heart was soothed and finally, something made sense.

Flush with emotion he was struck by the notion that with her by his side he could even face the rejection of his peers; the world even, as long as she was there.

Finally, Hermione said in a husky whisper that told Draco she was feeling this as much as he was, "As much as I enjoying this and don't get me wrong, I am enjoying this. I'm pretty sure neither of us knows what is happening between us and I think perhaps breakfast is in order. Then if you'd like, since classes won't start until tomorrow, we can spend the day together. We can get to know one another and figure out whatever this is. Sound good?"

Draco nodded; her scent and touch and nearness were intoxicating him so much that he couldn't trust himself to speak. Releasing her from the embrace, they turned to leave their common room, her hand firmly held in his.

Neither spoke as they walked down the silent corridors to the Great Hall. Luckily, they were late, so there was no one in the halls to witness the tender way they stole looks at one another or the blush that covered both of their cheeks. As they got to the doors, they paused and looked at each other.

"Are you sure about this?" Hermione asked.

Draco sighed and stared into her eyes. Then moving from her eyes he took in the whole picture she presented him. How had he never realized what a beauty she was? Her face so full of compassion and gentleness, as well as the same strength and fire he'd always known was there. He knew he could face the people in that room, but could she?

Suddenly it hit him; she didn't realize what he was to those people in that room. It was not in her nature to think of people in that way. He couldn't let her walk off the deep end without warning her first.

His voice was serious and quiet when he spoke, "Hermione, I am sure. Are you?"

She immediately began to answer but before she could he cut her off, "Before you answer, really think about it. You may not realize it, but you always believe the best of people; even I know that. But... well... You know WHAT I was, who my family stood for. For Merlin's sake, my father is in Azkaban. And that is all the people on the other side of that door are going to see. They will never see me, the real me."

She looked at him slightly puzzled. "I don't know about that Draco. It may take time but…"

Once again he interrupted her, "Hermione, you are the hero here, not me. As much as I hate to admit it, you're the one with everything to lose. I don't want to scare you, but you need to be sure that this is a risk you want to take. They aren't going to like it. Even if all we ever are is friends, this could ruin your reputation. Or at the very least put a dent in it for a long time."

Hermione took a step back, and she considered what he'd said. He was right; she hadn't really thought about how everyone else would view Draco and her relationship. Honestly, she hadn't thought at all. She had just allowed herself to feel and that feeling was something she did not want to let go. For so long she had been numb, there was no way she could let this, what ever _this_ was, go.

"Draco, we can do this. True, we don't quite know what this is. But I do know that more than anything in this world, I need this. Right here, right now, I need it." The determination in her voice grew as she continued, "So, when we walk into that hall, you are going to hold my hand like we haven't got a care in the world. You are going to escort me to the Gryffindor table, kiss me on the cheek and then go take your haughty pureblood arse over to the Slytherin table. Understood?"

Draco smiled and nodded.

Hermione smiled back as she continued, "You are right, though, I hadn't considered the consequences. Thank you for thinking of me. But, I know what I want. Need. Right now we don't need everyone else. The truth is both of us probably would have been alone all year and now we don't have to be. It isn't like those people in that room mean anything more to me than a stack of bricks. But you… Draco… There is a possibility that this could be more and I want to give it a chance. I want to feel and live and love. It has been a long time since I've been able feel anything, and if it is you that brings such feelings and desires to me, then so be it. And everyone else can kiss my arse."

Draco snorted and then they leapt off the deep end as she dragged him by the hand into the Great Hall. Hermione's display of pure Gryffindor determination leaving him amused. If there was one thing he knew about Hermione, it was that she always got exactly what she wanted. He for one was thankful that right now the one thing she wanted was him.

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><p><em>Well. That is it. Sorry! <em>

_ As you can see it is left somewhat... well... Yeah, it just got left. _

_ As I said before this is the first story I wrote and when I got to this point I found it was ready for a change, so I moved on and the story sat on my hard drive untouched for years. Now that I have looked at it again, I could see adding more but I don't know. I'd need a plot... lol! Something that would actually drive the story. Which is something it doesn't have right now._

_ Anyhow, thanks for reading! Also, if you really want more to this story you could let me know. Also, if you have a vision for what could happen - share. I'd love to hear that! Just as with all writers, I am far more likely to write more if I know someone wants to read it! ;) _

_ ~ Meladara  
><em>


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